VI. Misconceptions

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"Su, you should eat," my mom called out to me, wearing a worried expression. How could I in this situation? Was all I think at that moment. After all, sitting across for me and my mom, was none other than the man who left my mom behind.

Rather than joy for having seen my dad after so long, all that held tight in my heart was anger. I knew that my mom could easily sense it, due to the soft hand that rested atop of my thigh, whose foot was bouncing uncontrollably.

Her fingers trailed small circles along my thigh, somehow managing to somewhat calm me. I blew out a silent sigh and though I'd be fine... that was until...

"So, Sumiko," my dad spoke up, addressing me directly. "You haven't spoken so much as a mutter since I've gotten here," he spoke in between bites. "What's up with that?"

I had but forgotten that my dad left before I lost my voice. I looked down at the table, starting to eat slowly. From the top edge of my vision, I could see my dad send me a look of concern that was completely lost on me.

Thankfully, noting my unease, my mom answered for me. "Sumiko has lost the ability to speak," she says, looking over at me.

My dad sighed at that and I could tell that he was taking it the wrong way immediately. "What did she say? It couldn't have been that bad, right?" He held a bit of hope in his voice. For what reason, I'm not sure.

I looked up at him from across the table and shook my head once. My notebook sat by my plate, open to a blank page. Normally I wouldn't take it to the table whenever we had guests, but I had decided to bring it nonetheless.

"Rather than that," my mom spoke up, shaking her head. "She got her vocal cords removed about a year ago. This was done because they were damaged in a way that couldn't be repaired. Not to mention that they were in the way of some vital organs."

I looked back at the table and started eating again. I've heard this explanation hundreds of times. It was nothing new. My dad on the other hand seemed to be having trouble comprehending.

I closed my eyes as I ate, enjoying the awkward silence that this conversation has brought. Unfortunately, even good things eventually end.

"By the way, Su, how was your new school today?" My mom asked me with curiosity in her eyes. I bit my lip, which I'm sure was an action that wasn't missed.

Instead of using sign language or my notebook to communicate like usual, I decided for my usual third option. I grabbed my mom's hand and started drawing symbols in her hand.

"Is that so," my mom asked, her curiosity replaced with sadness. I pulled up my shirt just far enough to show the cut on my stomach. I was greeted with another silence. Unlike last silence, I really didn't enjoy this one.

I blew out a sigh and stood up suddenly, pushing my chair back. The quick movement made me suddenly dizzy, but it had gone as swiftly as it had arrived. I mouthed out the words 'I'm done' and proceeded to take my dishes to the kitchen.

After that, I rushed to my room, making sure to grab my notebook on the way, and silently closed the door. I set my notebook on my drawer and sat on the edge of my bed.

Why does it always end up like this? I couldn't help but think. There have been so many high schools I've been to where I was treated this way. It always got to the point where I had to transfer.

This'll be the fastest I've ever had to. It'll come down to that eventually. It makes me wonder if I'll ever have that perfect school life. Probably not, right?

I grabbed one of my pillows and held it close. So many emotions were flying around. Some that I've never felt before. Not like I'd know for sure. After all, people don't take what they can't see seriously.

What they refuse to see.

What they refuse to believe.

After all, that's our world, right?

I felt around for a slit in the pillow I held before reaching inside it. I never slept on this pillow for a specific reason. My hand brushed against cold metal. Metal that had been left alone for nearly a month.

My hand closed around it, a tight grip that I should've been more careful of. I pulled object out and held it in my opposite hand, watching that oh-so-familiar red liquid run down it, dripping onto my bedsheets and clothes.

I clenched my hand and bit my lip as I looked at the object that was now in my hand. A singular blade. One that I've kept hidden for months. Ever since all of this started.

I shook my head and put the object back where I had gotten it. Why are you hesitating now? Was all I could think at that moment for some reason.

What do you have to lose?

Everything.

That's why I'm so hesitant at that moment. I fell backwards and stared up at the ceiling. I hated all of this. But there was anything I couldn't help but think about.

What if there was nothing anyone could do about it?

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